


Coming up for air

by Ren



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren/pseuds/Ren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean teaches Castiel how to shower. Porn happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming up for air

**Author's Note:**

> I am wary of comment fests because usually there's only porny prompts and I start a fill with all the best intentions and end up with something so G-rated and Gen that it could be fit for kindergarten reading. This time I saw a prompt asking for "teaching about everyday life" and I was like I CAN DO THIS ONE, THIS CALLS FOR FLUFF, I SHALL WRITE A BRIEF FLUFFY COMMENTFIC AND EVERYONE WILL BE HAPPY. I am not sure of what went wrong.

It's not that Castiel is having a hard time adjusting to life as a human. It's more like Castiel has no idea how to adjust to life as a human, and keeps waiting for Dean to solve all of his problems.

One morning Dean steps out of the bathroom and tosses Castiel a towel. "All yours, I left you enough hot water," he says, even though the water is at most lukewarm in this shitty motel. Castiel stares at the towel, puzzlement written all over his face, and Dean has to explain. "For the shower, Cas! I don't know how it is for angels, but if humans don't wash, after a while they start stinking."

Castiel looks offended at the suggestion that he might stink, though first he sniffs the air circumspectly, just to be sure. "Okay," he says. "But I never took a shower, how does that work?"

Dean almost laughs at those words, because there's a limit to how much clueless someone can be. "Turn the faucet, step under the water and get washed," he says.

Castiel nods and frowns at the same time, clinging to the towel in an attempt to ward off the complexities of human life. "Do I have to remove my clothes before taking the shower?" he asks.

Dean almost answers with a sarcastic no, but Castiel would shower with his clothes on if Dean told him that's how you do it. So Dean tells him, in his most serious tone, "Yes, Cas, you have to get naked."

If Castiel was left to his own devices, he would be capable of wearing the same dirty pants and shirt day after day, so Dean gives him a change of clothes: a pair of faded jeans, one of his old t-shirts and a hoodie that Sam isn't wearing any more. Sooner or later Dean will give in to the fact that Cas will be staying here indefinitely and he'll have to buy him new clothes, but Dean's life is already complicated enough and he doesn't have the time or the energy to take Cas shopping.

Armed with his towel and his second-hand clothes, Cas marches into the bathroom as if he was a soldier headed towards the battlefront. After he closes the door, Dean waits a moment in case the former angel comes up with more stupid questions, though maybe this time Cas can manage on his own. He looks at yesterday's leftover pizza and wonders whether it could be today's breakfast too.

From the bathroom comes the sound of running water, and then Castiel's voice. "Dean, the water is extremely cold!"

"Did you turn the faucet to the left?" Dean asks.

"No," Cas replies from the bathroom.

"Well, turn the faucet to the left," Dean says.

A pause, then pouring water. Dean takes a bite from the pizza. Cold and somewhat rubbery, but edible.

"Dean, the water is still cold!"

"Give it some time, it takes a while for the water to heat up," Dean replies. Castiel doesn't reply, probably because he's busy pouting and being all resentful that Dean isn't rushing in with all guns blazing to fix his cold water problem.

At least now he's not bothering Dean with questions any more, which means that Dean can finally have breakfast in peace. He eats two out of the three leftover pizza slices, which greatly improves his mood, and then he turns on the TV and watches a rerun of a rerun of Zorro.

When the episode ends and the credits start rolling, Dean realizes that Castiel has been in the shower for more than half an hour. He puts the TV on mute and turns to the bathroom. "Everything all right, Cas?" he shouts. "Are you done yet?"

"I don't know," Castiel replies, his voice muffled by the sound of running water. "How do I know when I am done?"

Dean hopes that their neighbors can't hear these ridiculous conversations, otherwise who knows what they might think. Though, given his track record in having things go his way, the neighbors can hear them perfectly through the paper-thin walls and have decided they're both clinically insane.  
How does one even start to answer a question like that?

"Did you lather and rinse? Did you wash your hair?" Dean asks.

"No," Cas replies. "Should I?"

"Jesus, Cas," Dean says. "What have you been doing all this time?"

Pause. "I have been standing under the running water like you told me," is Castiel's answer.

"What, you mean you just stood there all the time?" Dean asks. "Without moving at all?" He suddenly has this mental image of Castiel under the shower, looking puzzled and staring hard at the faucet in an attempt to gain a better understanding of its mysteries. At that point he laughs out loud, he can't hold it in any more. "You're supposed to use soap," he says when he regains control of himself.

"You didn't tell me that," Castiel says, all angelic resentfulness.

"There's some shower gel and shampoo," Dean says, still chuckling. "The small blue bottles next to the faucet."

The noises from the bathroom change, now it sounds as if someone is moving in the shower instead of just standing under the running water, and this bodes well for the success of this mission. "I see them," Castiel says. "I'm going to wash properly now."

"You do that," Dean says, and he turns his attention to the TV screen, which at the moment is showing a commercial for a vacuum cleaner.

After less than half a minute the bathroom door opens and out comes Castiel, naked and dripping water. "Dean," Cas said, waving his arms around like a madman, "my eyes are burning."

Dean swears. "Damn it, there is a limit to how hopeless you can be," he says, jumping up and dragging Castiel back inside the bathroom before he can create a puddle in the middle of their room. "Hold still," he says, "you just got some shampoo in your eyes." He takes a towel and hands it to the world's most awkward angel, but Castiel's eyes are closed and doesn't even notice it, so Dean grunts and dries off his face for him. "Even young children aren't this clumsy," Dean says.

Cas blinks furiously. "It burns," he repeats, stubborn.

"Don't do that, you'll make it worse," Dean warns him. "Dry your eyes and the burn will go away."

Above the towel, Castiel's eyes are red and filled with tears. "Sorry, Dean," he says, looking very miserable.

It makes Dean feel guilty because after all it is his fault that Cas lost all his angel mojo and got marooned on Earth, and even though Cas is doing his best to adapt, it's not easy to learn in a couple of days all that humans learn to do in the first ten to twenty years of their life.

Castiel is dripping water mixed with shampoo all over the mat and over Dean's clean shirt, and Dean makes his decision.

"Okay," he says, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on top of Cas's pile of clothes. "Tell you what: I'll help you wash your hair, but just this once. And you have to promise me that you'll never talk about this. With anyone. _Ever._ " He punctuates this statement with a glare, because he thinks that if someone found out about this he could die of freaking embarrassment.

Castiel nods immediately, all happy. "I promise," he says with a small smile. "Thank you, Dean!"

Dean shakes his head and takes off his jeans. He has a small crisis because he doesn't know if he should undress completely, on the one hand it's stupid to go in the shower wearing boxers, on the other hand the situation is shady enough. Eventually he decides that, who cares anyway, he was already fucked ever since he met Cas for the first time. He strips completely and pushes Cas under the running water, then slips into the shower and draws the plastic curtain closed.

"Watch and learn, because this is the only time you'll ever get a practical demonstration," Dean says, picking up the shampoo and pretending that the situation is perfectly normal. Nothing unusual here, only two men in the same shower, surely a very common situation, at least if you're the protagonist of a porn movie of a particular nature. Dean resolves not to think about that.

Cas is certainly not thinking about that and seems to find the situation perfectly normal, though that's probably because his knowledge of porn is still limited. He looks alert and attentive, hanging on to every word of Dean's lecture on Shampooing 101. If Dean had known beforehand that he'd be doing this, he could have rehearsed what to say, because how the hell do you explain what is the right amount of shampoo? Even better, if he had known beforehand that he'd be doing this, he would have stayed in bed this morning.

Dean takes the tiny bottle of motel-issued shampoo, pours some of the contents into Castiel's hand and tries to refrain from making sarcastic comments while he explains which movements to do to lather his hair. Cas just keeps patting his shampooed hair, which is less than effective.

"No, if you do that you'll get it in your eyes again," says Dean, wiping away a blob of shampoo that has fallen on Castiel's forehead and hitting his elbow against the wall in the process. This is uncomfortable as hell, there's no room for movement at all and they both keep bumping against the wall or against the plastic shower curtain. Or worse, they keep bumping into each other, but Dean is still trying to ignore the embarrassment and the absurdity of the situation.

He can't pretend nothing happened, though, when he feels something brushing against his thigh. So far he has tried to keep his gaze up and focused on the region of space above Castiel's shoulders, but he just can't take it anymore, and so while Cas closes his eyes and tilts his head back to rinse the shampoo from hair Dean quickly glances down and... Fuck me. Not in that sense, though. Really, not in that sense. Dean wants to laugh and cry at the same time, how can this be his life, he can't handle this, he didn't sign up for this, his stint in hell looks like a fucking walk in the park compared to having to deal with this.

He clears his throat. "Cas, I think we have a problem," he says.

Castiel frowns, runs a hand through his damp hair and follows Dean's gaze downwards. "Oh," he says. A short syllable which is simply not enough to express how fucked up Dean feels right now. "This is strange," Cas adds after a while, "Nothing of the sort ever happened before."

Dean is thrilled at the idea that he's the first person in history to make Castiel horny. In other news, the same angel who failed to lose his virginity in a brothel can get it up in no time for Dean Winchester. "Awesome," Dean says. "The day keeps getting better and better."

The sarcasm is lost on Castiel. "This is a good thing?" he asks, still looking down. Dean would like him to stop staring at his own hard-on, this is already awkward enough as it is.

"It's not good or bad," Dean says, refusing to go into further details. "It happens sometimes."

"This situation is very strange," says Cas.

Dean takes his face in his hands. He can't take any more of this. "You tell me, Captain Obvious," he says. "Listen, er... I'm going in the other room. You... you take care of your small problem, okay?"

Some remote part of his brain points out that Castiel's problem is by no means small. Dean decides that he's going to need therapy to get over this and that his life sucks. Castiel appears to have reached the same conclusion because he grabs Dean's arm and stops him from leaving.

"Then it really is a problem?" he asks, sad, worried about doing the wrong thing yet again. "How do I make it go back to how it was?"

"Jesus, Cas, jerk off!" Dean exclaims, exasperated. "Masturbate! What else can you do?"

The former angel still doesn't understand, not even when Dean mimics the gesture, drops of water flying away from his hand, it's a universally recognized gesture and how the fuck does one not know what to do in this situation. Castiel's fingers are almost exactly over the mark he left on Dean's arm years ago when he raised him from hell. He's not shaking, but it's taking him a visible effort to remain calm: his face is red, his breath is shaky. Most of all, he looks so damn lost and out of his depth.

Dean groans and already knows that he'll regret this, but his hands are already moving on their own. One hand goes around Castiel's waist to support him, the other moves over his dick.

The first unexpected touch makes Cas shudder violently. "Dean," he whimpers in a strangled voice, his eyes widening.

"Shhh," Dean says softly, "relax and let me take care of this."

He moves his hand up and down rhythmically, as gently as possible because Cas is terribly nervous at the beginning. Dean is practically a world champion of jerking off, it's one of the few things that can get rid of all the stress he builds up thanks to his damn job. Handjobs are not exactly the same, he needs to angle his wrist in a different way and figure out how Castiel likes it, but that's easy enough. In a short time Dean has Cas is fully erect and moaning as he thrusts his hips forward, fucking Dean's fist.

Dean allows himself a smug grin and picks up the pace, while with his other hand he traces Castiel's backbone from shoulders to buttocks, chasing a stray droplet. Castiel clings to Dean like a dying man. "Dean, _Dean_ ," he says, and then he moans. "Don't stop ... Dean, I want to ..."

"Don't worry," Dean says, because it's not in his style to leave things half-done. He leans forward and whispers in his ear, "I know exactly what you want."

He speak softly because he absolutely does _not_ want the people in the next room to hear, but Cas has no such compunction and is panting loudly. Dean wants to shut him up but both his hands are busy, so he leans forward and kisses him. It means nothing, Dean tries to convince himself. Any man can happen to kiss a friend, maybe while they are both naked in the shower and one is giving the other a handjob. It means absolutely nothing, apart from the fact that now Dean is a bit confused, Castiel's eyes are heavy lidded and incredibly blue and full of surprise, there's drops of water trapped between his eyelashes, his lips taste a bit like shampoo.

Dean closes his eyes and pushes the tongue against those soft lips and Cas opens his mouth, pliant, and lets himself be kissed like never in his life. Dean knows that Jimmy kissed other people at some point, he even has a daughter so he's not exactly a virgin, but Jimmy is just Castiel's vessel. No one has ever heard _Castiel_ make noises like this before, or seen the look on _Castiel_ 's face when Dean does that thing where he traces his thumb over the head of his cock.

When the kiss ends Dean doesn't move. "Fuck," he murmurs, his face only a breath away from Cas.

Cas doesn't even hear, his eyes are still closed and he's repeating Dean's name like a prayer, but when Dean lets go of his dick his eyes snap open and he glares at Dean.

"Give me a moment, Cas," Dean says, his voice more than a little hoarse. He readjusts his body around Castiel's and takes both of their erections in his hand. The friction of Castiel's skin against his own is almost enough to make him come there and then. Dean doesn't want to think that he hasn't felt like this since he was fifteen, later there will be time to worry about that, about his sudden crush on Castiel, but right now Dean's brain just doesn't have enough blood to think. He focuses on their irregular breaths instead, on how Castiel throws back his head as if to showcase the prefect curve of his neck and collarbone.

Dean leans forward and kisses him again. It's sloppy, just pressing their lips together and swapping saliva, because he's too far gone for anything more complicated. His whole world has been reduced to his dick pressed against Castiel's, slick with soap and precome.

"Dean," Cas says, so softly that Dean almost doesn't hear, but he can feel Cas's lips moving against his cheek and guesses the word. Then Cas is coming, clinging to Dean and covering his hand and his stomach and the shower wall with spunk.

It's the sight of Castiel looking utterly wrecked that sends Dean over the edge. He makes almost no noises when he comes, just moans and collapses against Castiel as if the world has just gone out from under his feet. They both fall sideways, Dean against Cas and Cas against the tiles of the bathroom, and for a while nobody says anything.

When the water turns from lukewarm to freezing and they start shivering, Dean cleans himself and Castiel as best as he can and then he turns the water off. He manhandles Castiel out of the shower and wraps the towel around his shoulders.

"Dry off or you'll catch a cold," he says.

Castiel still looks like a mess, his face is flushed and he's shuddering in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature, but he's beaming when he catches Dean's eyes. "Dean," he says after a while, "this thing between us..."

Stupid motel with its stupid lack of towels. If only he had another towel, Dean could hide under it and wouldn't have to face Castiel. Dean wants to say that this _thing_ is a terrible idea, that it's not so easy as a handjob under the shower, that it's never so simple, that they'll end up regretting it and Dean couldn't stand it because the last thing he wants is to hurt Cas.

Instead he hugs Cas, and Cas opens his arms and wraps Dean in his arms and in the towel, holding him close.

"Not bad for a first time," Dean says, and lets the afterglow lull him for another while.


End file.
